


Not Too Young

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [18]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Bones is scary but he doesn't mean to be, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, bonding over technobabble and exasperation at james t kirk, on a lil bit though, our favorite russian bean's a little insecure and that's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: Pavel Chekhov is one of the youngest people to ever serve as an active member of Starfleet on board a starship. He's immensely proud to be here, so much to learn and so many people to learn from.He's not sure everyone's as happy as he is that he's here.
Relationships: Pavel Chekov & Hikaru Sulu, Pavel Chekov & James T. Kirk, Pavel Chekov & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Pavel Chekov & Montgomery "Scotty" Scott
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 16
Kudos: 209





	Not Too Young

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know how to spell anyone's names leave me alone

Fandom: Star Trek

Prompt: “I heard you talking in your sleep.”

* * *

Being on the USS Enterprise is a dream come true.

Pavel balances his PADD against his hip as he pulls the mug out of the replicator, never once taking his eyes off the specifications as he drinks. The ship is an incredible piece of engineering with some of the brightest minds of the Federation on board. Pavel is thrilled to say he may be one of them.

The Academy taught him much about the science of warp drive, the gravimetric networks that made up the highways from planet to planet, but being able to sit on the bridge of the flagship made it all so _tangible._ He could push the limits of the knowledge he had and experiment with the results. The perfect physics playground.

‘Karu quickly became his best friend, bouncing ideas off of each other and running with the ideas until they reached the end and found another. ‘Karu’s knowledge of exobiology is incredible, and part of Pavel wished he’d studied that a little more too so he could keep up when ‘Karu really got going.

Pavel is allowed to be smart here. It’s encouraged. It kept him on board during that first expedition and it’s keeping him interested in his work. Mr. Scott looked a little alarmed but quickly accepted when he eagerly asked if he could follow him around to learn more about the engines. There’s so much to learn here it’s wonderful.

Pavel stops short in the corridor, clutching the PADD to his chest, narrowly avoiding running into a person wearing a blue tunic.

“S-sorry!”

The person barely turns, heading toward the turbo lift. Pavel swallows. He joins them inside, trying to shuttle as close as he can to the other wall to stay out of their way. They turn around to face the door.

“…hello, Doctor.”

Dr. McCoy barely grunts. Pavel glances down at the PADD, trying to lose himself back in the differential equations and failing. The doctor’s presence should not alarm him, he knows.

The doors slide open.

“Have a good day, Doctor.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dr. McCoy grumbles as he stalks out. Before the ‘lift doors close, Pavel hears him barking orders at the nurses.

Pavel sighs, listening to the whirr of the ‘lift as it goes to the Bridge. He understands, really, he does, that he is young. The others at the Academy did not let him forget it. He is much younger than most of his classmates, _much_ younger than most on this ship. He does not have the years that would afford him the same respect.

He is smart, but sometimes that is not enough.

He can still hear the doctor’s voice on the Bridge, asking how old he is. He can still see the look on the doctor’s face when he says he’s seventeen, looking at the Captain, asking why the hell there’s a _child_ here on a starship. He knows he is young. He only hopes the Captain knows that doesn’t mean he’s not good enough.

By the time he gets to the Bridge, he’s already buried in the equations again, muttering to himself as he makes his way to his station. ‘Karu leans across the conn to prod his shoulder.

“What’re you buried in now?”

“The equations for Mister Scott,” Pavel says, “to recalibrate the warp drive with the new specifications.”

“Is this the one that reroutes the antimatter through two sets of dilithium crystals instead of one?”

“Da.” Pavel sets the PADD aside momentarily to log in to his station and complete the rechecks. “They should work fine, but…”

“But…?” ‘Karl laughs when he sighs.

“I feel like I am missing something.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Pavel looks gratefully at his friend who gives him a reassuring smile. “We’ll have a look after the shift, okay? I’ve got a greenhouse to water and I’m sure _you’ve_ got some technobabble to do.”

“As long as you do not overwater your mithicampium holicithias again.”

“It’s _mindicampum_ holicithias,” ‘Karu mutters, “and that was _one time._ ”

Pavel laughs and refocuses on the equations. If he’s going to babble as ‘Karu after the shift he’d better understand these inside and out. He’s so engrossed in the readout on his screen that he doesn’t even register the gold-clad figure of the Captain joining him at his station until it crowds into his peripheral vision.

“Mr. Chekhov?”

“C-Captain!” Pavel definitely does _not_ fall out of his chair and ‘Karu does not snort into his elbow. The Captain just smiles, reaching out to steady Pavel in his chair.

“Easy there, didn’t mean to startle you.” The Captain nods towards the PADD, thankfully untouched by Pavel’s freakout. “What’re you looking at?”

“…something for Mister Scott,” Pavel explains warily, perfectly aware that this is _not_ what he’s supposed to be doing right now. “But I have the planetary scans you requested, they are—“

“At ease, Mr. Chekhov,” the Captain says, biting back a smile, “I got it. Send them to the console, I’ll have a look. You—“ he gestures to the PADD— “get back to whatever Scotty’s got you on now. God knows it’s over my head, I’m glad he’s got someone to keep up with him.”

“A-aye, Captain.”

The Captain winks and goes back to his chair. Pavel watches him go, catching sight of Dr. McCoy scowling at him over the Captain’s shoulder. He almost bangs his knees on the underside of the conn in his haste to turn back around. He rattles off the report to the Captain’s PADD, hands flying. He pulls the PADD back towards him, curling himself around it when it vibrates.

_Lt. Cmdr. Sulu: it’s okay, Pasha, you don’t have to be scared. You’re not in trouble, Kirk’s not mad._

He glances over at his friend. ‘Karu looks concerned, keeping his face angled away from the people behind them. Pavel smiles to reassure his friend. They share a quick nod before going back to work. He doesn’t tell ‘Karu that it’s not the Captain that spooked him.

As seems to be the case whenever they go planet-side, something goes wrong and they end up running for their lives. Everyone is so _fast,_ Pavel tries his best but his legs aren’t nearly as long as Commander Spock’s or the Captain’s, he’s struggling to keep up. He snags the back of Lieutenant Oshara’s tunic to keep them beside him and hauls himself upwards towards the transporter coordinates.

He manages to get there as something hits him in the back and he falls, hearing the terrified yells of his crewmates.

The lights of the medical bay are too bright and he winces, slamming his eyes shut as a dull pain washes over him. He knows to wait to move, sure the monitors will alert someone to the fact that he’s conscious again. They’ll tell him what happened, he’ll follow whatever instructions they give, and he’ll get out of their way. He only hopes that it’ll be Nurse Chapel or one of the others that come to him.

“Lights 60%.”

Maybe his ears aren’t working properly?

“Come on, open your eyes.”

Pavel complies, forcing himself not to tense when he sees Dr. McCoy’s face looming over him. Has he always been this tall? And this angry?

A second later an even brighter light flashes in front of his eyes and he can’t stop flinching away from it, startling when a rough hand grabs his face and forces his eyes to stay open.

“Quit whining,” Dr. McCoy growls, “it’s not that bad.”

_Just listen and nod, Pavel, it’ll be over quicker._

“You got shot in your left shoulder,” the doctor says, “pain shouldn’t last. No damage done we couldn't fix. Take it easy for a few days.”

“Yessir.”

“Anything else we didn’t catch?”

“No sir.”

Dr. McCoy gives him a look that Pavel doesn’t even _try_ to decipher. He just waits. Dr. McCoy will ask whatever questions he has, Pavel will answer them, and then he will be allowed to leave.

“Alright, spit it out, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sir,” Pavel says quickly, shaking his head, “thank you.”

“Uh huh.” Dr. McCoy raises an eyebrow. “You look like someone’s about to swipe your chickens in the middle of the night.”

Pavel doesn’t have chickens.

“Come on,” Dr. McCoy prods, reaching for a tricorder, “tell me. Sooner I know the sooner we’ll fix it.”

“No!”

Pavel winces. He didn’t mean to shout. The doctor raises an eyebrow.

“No,” he repeats, quieter this time, “I am alright. Thank you for helping me. Can I leave now?”

Dr. McCoy puts down the tricorder. The sound is loud and Pavel jumps.

“Kid.”

Pavel braces himself for whatever comes next.

“Breathe.”

What? He looks at the doctor who…isn’t scowling at him anymore.

“Breathe,” he says again, his voice the softest Pavel’s ever heard it, “come on.”

Pavel lets the doctor guide him through a few deep breaths, still confused. Dr. McCoy waits for his third exhale to come closer. His face isn’t angry, at least Pavel doesn’t think so.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re shakin’ in your boots, kid,” the doctor asks gently.

Pavel doesn’t answer. If he says that he’s…afraid of making him angry that might just do it. After all, he knows that the fear of making someone angry is quite…childish.

“’S it the med bay?”

“What?”

Dr. McCoy gestures around the space. “I heard you talking in your sleep. You kept sayin’ you were sorry, that you’d get out of someone’s way. I know this place ain’t exactly the highlight of the ship. Sets more than half of us on edge.”

Pavel flushes. He still talks in his sleep?

“Now what’s that look for?” Dr. McCoy gestures to his now bright pink face. “Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not scared of the med bay,” Pavel insists stubbornly, aware this might not help him.

“Than what is it, kid? ‘Cause it’s something.”

Pavel twists his hands together. He doesn’t know how to say this. He _definitely_ doesn’t know how to say this to Dr. McCoy.

Maybe he isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.

Maybe Dr. McCoy will tell the Captain to make him leave.

“Hey.”

Dr. McCoy’s hand is on his arm. He leans in closer, creating a little bubble of intimacy that’s theirs, apart from the bustle of the rest of medical bay. Naked concern is written all over the doctor’s face. Pavel can’t help but stare.

“Come on, kid, I ain’t gonna bite. You tell me what’s wrong, okay?”

“I…” Pavel swallows. “I apologize for my mistake. It will not happen again. I understand that I am young but I will be better.”

“That’s not…” Dr. McCoy’s face darkens. “Who told you that?”

“What?”

“Who told you you weren’t good enough? That you were too young?”

Pavel tries to flinch away but the doctor’s grip is tritanium.

“I’m sorry, I—“

“Kid—“

Pavel whimpers when the doctor’s other hand comes up. “Please don’t be angry.”

Dr. McCoy freezes and Pavel braces himself for the doctor to yell. He doesn’t expect the soft touch of the doctor’s hands on either side of his shoulders.

“’S it me, kid?”

Pavel looks up. Dr. McCoy isn’t angry anymore. Now he just looks concerned again. He nods slowly.

“Shit, kid, ‘m sorry.” Dr. McCoy rubs his shoulders. “I’ve been told my bedside manner ain’t all it could be. But I’m guessin’ it’s a little more than that, huh?”

Pavel keeps nodding.

“Then lemme set the record straight.” Dr. McCoy gives him a smile! A smile! “I ain’t mad at you. You ain’t too young to be up there with the best of them. And I ain’t gonna try and hold you accountable for whatever goes on down there.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, kid.” Dr. McCoy lets him go. “You’re one of the brightest things I’ve ever met. I’m just here to keep y’all as safe as I can. If it were up to me no one would be out here, death and disease wrapped up in silence. But I ain’t gonna try and tell _you_ you can’t be out here. I’ll just be here tearin’ my hair out, making sure you’re all alright. That’s the CMO’s job; Professional Worrier.”

Pavel laughs. That _does_ fit remarkably well. Dr. McCoy watches him with an…almost fond look on his face.

“I’m a grumpy old man, kid. I ain’t got the stuff to keep up with you young kids.” Dr. McCoy chucks Pavel under the chin. “Doesn’t mean I ain’t proud of you.”

Pavel’s stomach drops. “Y-you what?”

“Don’t you go tellin’ everyone,” the doctor scolds.

“Bones!”

“What d’you want, Jim?”

“Where’s my ensign?”

“Right here, now keep your head on.” Dr. McCoy steps aside to reveal the Captain looking around the medical bay.

“Mr. Chekov!” The Captain strides over. “You alright?”

“Yessir.”

“Good.” The Captain claps him on the shoulder, immediately withdrawing his hand when Pavel winces. “Oops.”

“Damnit, Jim! Get outta here and stop tormenting my patients!”

“Report to the Bridge when he lets you go!” The Captain all but runs out of the bay.

“Damned infant,” Dr. McCoy mutters, scowl fading when he catches sight of Pavel giggling at their antics. “You feelin’ better, kid?”

“Yessir.” Pavel ducks his head shyly. “Thank you.”

“Chekhov.”

The sound of his name makes Pavel sit up a little straighter, looking at Dr. McCoy.

“If _anyone_ tells you you’re too young or you ain’t good enough you let me know right away, you understand?”

Pavel nods.

“Good.” Dr. McCoy gently pats his non-injured shoulder. “Now get back to the Bridge. Go be smart and keep the rest of us informed, won’t you?”

Pavel smiles. “Yessir.”

“And Mr. Chekhov?”

“Yes?”

Dr. McCoy smirks. “I’m a doctor, not a sir.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

The next morning Dr. McCoy smiles at him in the turbo lift and Pavel smiles back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine.
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


End file.
